


Giving Diamonds to the Sea

by Verasteine



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: help_haiti, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a small thing, but in the end, he couldn't abandon Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Diamonds to the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spoggly](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Spoggly).



> Written for [](http://spoggly.livejournal.com/profile)[**spoggly**](http://spoggly.livejournal.com/), who offered a spontaneous $30 for this fic at [](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/profile)[**help_haiti**](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/), and that much money I could not resist. She asked for J/I hurt/comfort, with introspective Ianto. Hope this fits the bill!
> 
> Lyrics at the top and providing the title belong to Tara MacLean, from her song, "In the Wings".

> _Like the moon upon the water  
> gives diamonds to the sea  
> I pray that when the snow is gone  
> you'll return to me_

"Ianto, you can't!"

He shook off Gwen's hand on his arm, as he turned to grab his coat off the table, and in doing so came face to face with Tosh and Owen. Tosh, whose eyes were red-rimmed, and he didn't need to ask how she felt. Owen, who looked sympathetic, and who said, "Mate, we've no idea where he is."

He didn't need to hear the truth from them, didn't need to know the risk he was taking. It was his to take, and only his, his own promise to himself. The promise he'd never even made out loud to Jack. He smiled wryly for a moment. Jack wouldn't have accepted it.

"I have to find him."

His voice was rough, and he resisted clearing his throat. Tosh bit her lip, and Gwen stepped into his line of sight. "Ianto," she said imploringly. "It's freezing out there. We don't know where Jack is; we're lucky we've found shelter."

He could hear the wind raging outside, snowflakes no doubt flurrying randomly at its mercy. It was a soundtrack of warning to his mind, but-- "I can't abandon him, Gwen."

She met his eyes, and he saw something of recognition in them. "I know, love."

He doubted she truly understood, because she didn't know the slow, halting stories Jack had been telling him at night, but he knew she understood the driving emotion that was sending him out there. He wasn't naming it, not yet; maybe when he returned. Another wry smile crept onto his lips. "I'm going," he said, and his voice was stronger now. "Wish me luck."

Owen's hand clapped onto his shoulder, the medic's fingers gripping strongly for a moment. "Good luck, mate."

Owen handed him a scarf, Tosh, with a smile, her mobile, and Gwen kissed his cheek, zipped up his coat like he was twelve, and dug in her pocket to hand him two muesli bars. "Never go anywhere without food," she said with another wet smile. "It should be a Torchwood motto."

He smiled back, tucking them into his pocket. No matter the risk, he had to try this, had to try not abandoning Jack. If he was the first to do so, well, maybe it counted for something. "I'll be careful," he promised his team mates quietly. Three nods. "Come for us when the weather lets up."

"You got it," Owen said.

Ianto didn't look back after closing the door behind himself, trekking into the vast valley of white in front of him.

\--

It was difficult keeping track of time when you trekked through endless white, with your hands stuffed deep in your pockets and a very great unwillingness to expose them to the elements just to see your watch.

Ianto figured that knowing the progress of time wasn't really important, except as a measure of how much distance he had covered. And that measure was already impeded by the fact that he had no idea how fast he progressed in weather such as this.

It hadn't stopped snowing since he left the small cottage the team had taken shelter in.

Artefact retrieval, and the snow front they had intended to avoid by leaving early had stolen upon them sooner than expected. They'd split up, Jack alone, Ianto with Gwen, Tosh with Owen. They had found each other, but not Jack, and Ianto knew he'd gone further out. Due northeast, and that direction he was heading in.

It was aimless, largely, this trek through the snow, but he had to keep going. To not go find Jack wasn't an option, and so he went. It was cold, but his coat insulated well, and as long as he kept moving, he would be fine.

Jack would be fine, too.

Rational knowledge told him so, and yet. He couldn't, he knew, sit by Jack's bedside and wait for him to thaw. The idea was disgusting to him. It wasn't the dying that bothered him, well, no more than it had bothered him before, which was pretty fucking much, but still.

It were the silent nights, when Ianto lay awake and Jack woke up from nightmares.

The silent nights, and the slow, agonising details described by Jack's voice, harsh and unforgiving, not because he wanted to hurt but because he was unguarded, in those moments late in the night.

Ianto didn't know if Jack had put it all together, all the tales he told Ianto, and if Jack understood the picture of loneliness and abandonment that Ianto had come away with, but as things were, it had happened, and there he was.

Trekking through snow, endless, white, Owen's scarf bound over his face.

Needing to find Jack.

\--

The constant flurries stung his face, and the scarf was soak and crusted with ice. He tried to break it off, keep it from freezing to his skin, but his fingers were too numb to really do much good. And the snowflakes were too thick to give him any chance.

Visibility was very, very poor, and more than once he wondered if he could walk right by Jack, in this weather, and never find him.

If he could die, doing this.

But there was still a core of heat in him, and extremities could handle this foul weather far better than internal organs could. There was too much snow in Wales this year, more snow than Ianto remembered growing up, and he wondered briefly if it was alien in origin.

Jack would know.

Jack would also rig something up to contact help, with that wristband of his, or tell some story of a time he was stuck somewhere on an alien planet and snow led to sex, and Ianto found himself longing for the baritones of Jack's voice.

Talking, always talking, Jack, the mirror to Ianto's frequent bouts of silence.

Ianto found he missed Jack's smile, Jack's laughter, the warmth of Jack, above all.

\--

He was getting properly cold.

It crept up on him slowly, the seeping cold, clinging to the dampness of his coat and not quite letting go. Then, even slower, into his clothes and sinking into his skin, until he started shivering and couldn't stop.

His feet were numb, ice water having soaked through his trousers, shoes, and socks, the chill creeping up his legs. His frame was wracked with shivers, and he knew he needed shelter for survival. For a moment, he thought the small construction visible in the distance was a mirage.

It wasn't, and he made his way there in agonising progress.

He refused to think of it as admitting defeat; he would rest, would warm up, would dry his clothes, until he was ready to move and keep searching. He would not stop looking for Jack.

Somewhere in his mind, the words _fool's errand_ drifted around, and he refused to pay them heed. Instead, he trudged on.

He almost stumbled over Jack, lying in the snow, rolled up into as small a ball as a man of Jack's frame could make himself, huddling. Lips blue, he lay a few feet from the entrance to the shelter Ianto was aiming for. He started at seeing Jack, having almost given up hope, and stared at him a few blinking seconds.

Then he fell to his knees, ignoring the cold of the snow cutting through his wet trousers, and put his numb fingers to Jack's cheek.

"Jack. _Jack_, wake up."

Jack's skin was so cold against his touch, he thought for a moment Jack was already dead, but then he felt Jack's moist breath ghost over his fingers, and Jack blinked.

He tried to speak, but his lips wouldn't form words.

Ianto moved without thinking about it, pulling Jack's almost dead weight up by his arms and dragging him into the small, rock walled shelter.

Just being out of the wind made a difference, albeit a marginal one.

He shut the door behind the two of them, and forced his mind to stay on his task, not to stop or think about anything. He knew he didn't have the luxury.

There was a fireplace, very rudimentary, in one corner, and some wood stacked next to it. The place smelled musty, and the walls weren't fully weatherproof. The ground was stamped dirt, and it wasn't meant as a place to inhabit, but it would have to do.

Ianto stacked the wood and lit the fire, then returned to Jack's still form and coaxed him closer to the heat, half dragging him there.

He should have known that the first thing to get a rise out of Jack would be when Ianto started to undress him.

"Y' shou--a s'd," Jack mumbled, trying to smile with cheeks still frozen.

Ianto, in spite of the cold, smiled back, and returned to his task.

\--

With Jack naked and Ianto down to his trousers, the two of them piled under as many dry clothes as they had between them, as close to the fire as Ianto dared, Jack came back to himself slowly.

Ianto, on the other hand, was feeling drowsy and tired.

"Don't sleep," Jack warned, nudging him. "Ianto."

"I'm here," Ianto responded, blinking his eyes open. "How is it you're wide awake?"

"Hmm," Jack said, rubbing his cold nose against Ianto's slightly warmer skin. "I'm special."

Ianto declined to pick apart that statement.

"How come you're here?" Jack asked.

Ianto shifted in place. "I came looking for you."

Jack sat up, dislodging some of the careful pile and making Ianto shiver. For a brief moment, Jack righted the clothes before looking at Ianto. "You did what?"

"I came looking for you," Ianto repeated. "Jack--"

"There's a snow storm out there," Jack interrupted, voice icy.

"Yes," Ianto replied, refusing to back down on what he knew was the right decision. "And I wasn't going to leave you out here by yourself."

"Ianto," Jack said, exasperation dripping off every word, "I can't die."

"I know that!" Ianto snapped back. "Doesn't mean you have to do it alone all the time!"

Jack froze, staring at him. Then he crawled out of the careful pile, making sure it was still covering Ianto, and walked naked to the other side of the hut.

It wasn't more than a few feet, and by the fire light, Ianto could see the goose bumps forming on Jack's skin. "Jack," he implored. "Come back. You'll catch--"

"What?" Jack looked at him. "My death?"

Ianto suppressed a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold. He took a deep breath. "I won't watch you die if I can stop it."

"Fine," Jack replied angrily. "I'm not that fond of it myself. But don't risk yourself while doing it."

"I wasn't."

"You were, you _are_, freezing," Jack pointed out.

"Yes, but not dead. Or dying."

"You could have been," Jack said stubbornly.

"So could you." Ianto looked away from Jack, from the lines of Jack's body, strong and healthy, and stared at the fire. "Jack, don't ask me to--" He broke off.

"To what?"

Ianto looked back at him, staring up at Jack, who would not give an inch. Finally, Ianto said, "Don't ask me to let you die alone."

Jack turned away, staring at the wall, shivering again.

"Jack," Ianto said softly. "Please come back."

It took a minute or so, before Jack nodded and ducked his head, crawling back under the pile without meeting Ianto's eyes.

\--

First light brought only more snow. Their clothes were dry, the hut was warm, with enough wood to last them a while, but no ability to get out there and find help or civilisation.

They melted snow over the fire for water, and Ianto dug up the muesli bars Gwen had given him. "Emergency rations."

Jack smiled, guardedly, as if he still was trying to hold onto ground in their previous argument.

"Courtesy of Gwen," Ianto tried, and held one out to Jack.

He took the bar, taking off the wrapper and munching quietly on it.

"Jack," Ianto said when their meagre breakfast was finished.

Jack looked up.

Ianto cast about for words and found precious little to say. "Don't ask me to change," he managed.

Jack sighed. He seemed to struggle with a reply. "Ianto, I can't-- can't--" He swallowed. "I understand. But I can't watch you die. Not before--"

Ianto nodded. "I know. But I'm not dead yet. You can't spend your life..." He gambled. "Our life... waiting for that, Jack."

Jack reached out one hand, and Ianto took it, letting Jack pull him closer. Jack's arms wrapped around his waist, and Ianto let him settle the two of them until they were both comfortable.

"How about we both try?"

It was as good a truce as they were likely to find. Ianto stared into the flames, feeling Jack's body strong against his back. "Don't sacrifice yourself, Jack," he asked, daring to make the request only because he couldn't see Jack's face.

Jack's arms tightened around him. "I have to."

"Sometimes," Ianto admitted. "But not always, and not so casually. I love you too much for that."

Jack's lips touched his face. "Yes."

They sat in silence.

\--

By nightfall, Ianto was running a fever and Jack frowned. Ianto argued that the fever was mild, and he was fine, and Jack insisted on swaddling him in Jack's coat and regularly checking his skin.

Ianto let him. It was easier to suffer Jack's concern than to suffer Jack's anger.

Sometimes, like now, the two were a blend, and when Ianto really thought about it, about the meaning that loss played in Jack's life, even what little he'd seen of it, he understood very deeply.

So he settled in Jack's embrace, let Jack stroke the hair off his forehead, and said, "Tell me of one of the good times."

Jack frowned, then smiled. "Well, there was this tentacled alien once..."

Ianto listened, then smiled, too.

\--

It was the middle of the night, when they were both dozing, that the helicopter found them. Gwen was with them, smiling broadly and throwing her arms around both of them, laughing.

"I'm so glad," she said, voice shaking around the edges. "So glad."

Jack kissed her hair and hugged her back, a grin on his face. "We're okay. How are the others?"

"They're fine," Gwen confirmed.

"Let's go home, kids," Jack said, an arm around both their shoulders.

\--

The hub was blessedly warm, and Ianto had never thought of it that way before. Jack ordered them all home, but Ianto was strangely reluctant, not wanting to leave just yet.

Jack bustled them all out of the hub, and when it came to Ianto the smile on his face became smaller, more intense, guarded. When he put his hand to Ianto's forehead, Owen rolled his eyes, Tosh looked concerned, and Gwen smiled affectionately.

Jack noticed. "He's fine," he pronounced.

"_He_," Ianto said, "is able to speak for himself. I'm going home."

"I'm coming with you," Jack replied.

The hub door closed on all of them, and Ianto didn't really have the time to be surprised.

\--

There was something about Jack resting his head on Ianto's chest, about the warm line of Jack's body against his own, that just meant home.

For a brief moment, Ianto wondered when that had happened.

Then he let it go. He stroked his hand through Jack's hair, listening to the sound of contentment that evoked, and said, "I don't want to lose you before I have to, Jack."

Jack lifted his head, frowning. "I know."

Ianto reached out, touching his cheek. He leaned up, pressing his mouth to Jack's. Jack pushed him back down, following him, kissing away from his mouth and around to his ear, under his jaw, and Ianto let his body be taken over by sensation.

Jack paused, pulling back. "You won't. You won't lose me."

Ianto stared at him, in the dark, at the low light reflected in Jack's eyes. "Good," he replied, pulling Jack towards him with more enthusiasm. "Good."

\--  
_finis._


End file.
